A Different Branch
by sanieSaiyan
Summary: Summery: The day Chris Perry died his soul was left at an impasse, not able to return to the future unable to stay in the past, and in danger of disappearing, Death offers another alternative. Will eventually be slash.
1. Prologue

**Okay **this is quiet obviously a Charmed Fan fiction centring around Future…Past Chris…Or Chris Perry.

Later it will be slash I'm not releasing a pairing just yet.

Now this is the first Charmed Fan Fic I've ever written and I hope that the story holds my interest long enough to finish it.

I'm rating this story above what I think it will ever be so I can have a bit of leeway in the story's direction.

**Summery:** The day Chris Perry died his soul was left at an impasse, not able to return to the future unable to stay in the past, and in danger of disappearing, Death offers another alternative. Will eventually be slash.

To those that have read Snitched and are awaiting the next chapter…it may take a while but I will finish it…eventually.

I hope you enjoy Chapter: Prologue

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**The** house was quiet, a solemn hush had fallen since the body had disappeared, and even Leo's heart wrenching sobs seemed muted.

Paige bit down on the tips of her nails, tears rolled down her cheeks like small rivers, her teeth were chattering in a desperate attempt to contain her own emotions.

Chris was gone, had died protecting his vision of what could be, he had given up all that he was to preserve a possibility. Paige couldn't help but worry that he had died in vain, Gideon may be gone but the threat to Wyatt still remained, it was present in every demon or Warlock that might wish to make a name for themselves. Still that worry would have to wait for another day, there were more pressing concerns.

Chris knew the moment he lost that tenuous grip he had held on to life, it seemed to slip away from him like sand through his fingers; impossible to hold no matter how desperately he tried. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to disappear and never be able to rejoin the timeline. He wanted to live, to see Wyatt grown and good, to hug his brother and not fear the consequences, not fear retaliation. And Chris desperately wanted to walk into the manor and maybe, just maybe, by some grace of God, see his mother in the kitchen. Her long hair would be pulled back, her back to him as she studiously worked on a potion or better yet her Choc Chip Cookies that Chris remembered to be like heaven melting on his tongue.

Chris closed his eyes for a final time, he could no longer feel his body, couldn't feel his father's hands clasped tight on his shirt, as though that desperate hold anchored Chris's life to his body.

When Chris opened his eyes Leo was holding on to the bed cover, his shoulders were shaking and Chris's body was no longer there. Instead Chris stood at the end of the bed, invisible to all in the room; his heart sank as he realised that his soul wasn't moving on, his hopes of rejoining the time line was shattered.

"Yes, you do pose a rather unique problem." A quiet voice intoned from behind him.

Chris's eyes widened but he didn't turn, he new that the presence behind him could only be Death, he was going to be ferried to the 'Other World' whether he wanted to go or not…it was impossible to bargain with Death.

"Yes it is rather."

Chris still didn't turn, he didn't want to leave, he didn't want his life to be over, and he wasn't ready yet.

"Chris, turn around." The voice was a dull monotone; there was no inflection, no feelings, just cold, emotionless Death.

Slowly Chris turned to face Death; a tall figure dressed all in black, swept back blond hair and dulled grey eyes.

"What I don't even get to stay for my funeral?" Chris questioned lightly, stalling the inevitable.

"You forget Chris, today is the day of your birth, not you death. As I said, you pose a rather unique problem and I'm not entirely sure what to do with you."

Chris dared not to look hopeful, "So I can go rejoin the timeline?"

"No Chris, that is impossible. You must remember that the Chris being born today will be raised differently from the way you were raised. He will have different experiences and memories that vary from your own." Death paused and looked thoughtful. "At the same time, your soul is the same and so you can not go the 'Other World' as you called it, because eventually he will have to go there as well and two souls that are exactly the same cannot occupy the same space."

Death sighed and a perplexed look crossed his face, Chris hadn't realised that Death could exhibit such emotions.

"Yes you pose quite a problem young Chris, I simply don't know what to do with you."

"Well I could" Chris began before Death rose a hand to shush him.

"No young Chris you cannot rejoin your original timeline because it simply doesn't exist any more, not on any plane. No I have to think of something else." Death's right hand went to his chin and he tapped his index finger on his jawbone as he stood there, blithely deciding Chris's fate. Chris could help but think this grossly unfair.

"It might be unfair but I think we might have a solution." Death said abruptly, looking down at his nails.

"We?" Chris asked.

"Okay I might have a solution for you, tell me Chris what do you know about alternate timelines?" Death stared unblinking into Chris's eyes.

"Umm, not a lot."

Death 'hummed' quietly under his breath then launched into his explanation.

"Chris, you can't return to your timeline because it no longer exists, but that doesn't mean that there aren't others out there that you could conceivably make a life for yourself."

"I don't understand."

"I know, what I mean to say is that time isn't lineal , it branches off much like a tree, with every decision people make there are about five to ten possible outcomes, or branches as the case may be.

"Now when you came back in time, you eradicated the branch where Wyatt becomes evil because of Gideon, but that doesn't mean some other threat, that possibly wouldn't have been a threat if Gideon hadn't been killed, won't come along a do something else to Wyatt to turn him evil.

"But still this means that your timeline that branches with Gideon is now gone, you have nowhere to return to, even if it is to die. Now do you understand?"

Chris struggled to keep up with Death's explanation, he did understand on a basic level, but still it was hard to take in that all that he'd done to save Wyatt only stopped one possible outcome, that there were plenty of other Wyatts that turned from other threats that Chris should have protected him from.

"Chris, you achieved what you came here to do, you protected your Wyatt, your world, you sacrificed yourself to that end, do not feel disappointed, feel proud, your Wyatt will never become that evil."

"But you just said,"

"Chris those Wyatts that turn to darkness are for a different Chris to worry about, most of them are not as lost as your Wyatt was anyway."

Death moved closer to Chris, his grey eyes seemed less dull and more like pools thought.

"Chris, you did a noble thing and the Powers that Be recognise this, you sacrificed your self for the greater good, you don't deserve to disappear, which is what will happen if you are left in this realm unattended. Already your younger self is ready to be born and once he is you will be no more."

Chris drew in a shuddering breath, he found it odd that even though he was aware he no longer had a corporeal body; he still felt that nervous breath fill his non-existent lungs.

"What I propose Chris is giving you a life in a different timeline, one in which you don't exist."

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_**TBC**_

**Well there is our Prologue, let me know what you think, if I should continue…etcetera etcetera.**

**Love always Saine!! **


	2. Chapter One: Decisions on which Branch

Okay

Okay...Chapter One

**Summery:** The day Chris Perry died his soul was left at an impasse, not able to return to the future unable to stay in the past, and in danger of disappearing, Death offers another alternative. Will eventually be slash.

This is a Chapter that shows I am dedicated to do my best with this story; I wish that it gains the interest of the fans of Charmed and eventually fans of Slash.

Please let me know what you think, feedback would be greatly appreciated…also I wouldn't mind a better, if you are one or have thought of being one, please contact me.

Chapter One: Decisions on which Branch.

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PREVIOUSLY:

_Chris drew in a shuddering breath, he found it odd that even though he was aware he no longer had a corporeal body; he still felt that nervous breath fill his non-existent lungs._

"_What I propose Chris is giving you a life in a different time line, one in which you don't exist."_

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Chris looked at Death expectantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop; there was no way the 'Almighty powers of Good' would ever allow a dead soul to live unless there was some hidden, unexpected catch.

"Chris, understand that the forces of good reward acts of self-sacrifice, but you are correct in assuming you wouldn't simply be dropped of in another branch of the time line and left to continue your life. Unfortunately it is not that simple."

Chris sighed, releasing his pent up breath, "No it never is 'that simple.'"

Death reached out and grabbed Chris's sleeve, "Come Chris we can not linger here any longer, I can no longer guaranty the integrity of your soul, we must move to the ghostly plane."

The move form the mortal realm to the ghostly one was jarring and Chris stumbled forward and would have fell, had Death not held such a strong grip on his shirt.

The ghostly plane was an eerie replica of the mortal, living plane, everything seemed hollow, empty copies of the originals, every movement, every shift and sound bounced of the walls in a creepy echo. Chris shuddered, great, he was officially dead.

"No Chris, technically speaking you cannot be dead, because on this plane you were just born. Because of this we cannot stay long, the longer you are on this plane, the longer you soul is threatened." Death moved away from Chris, then turned around to face him.

"Chris, you must decide, do you wish for your soul to disappear and be absorbed by baby Chris or do you wish to go to a time line that your soul simply doesn't exist?"

"What happens if I choose this other time line, you said there was a catch, what is it?"

Death smiled slightly, "You're a smart one, and your question is valid. If you choose a different time line, you have to remember that there is no Chris Halliwell, you don't exist and your family will not know you, have never thought of you and you will in effect be completely alone."

Chris's heart drummed in his chest, either he would disappear entirely or he could go to a place where his family doesn't know him, wouldn't love him, wouldn't grieve for him if he died. He clenched his hand over his heart, he had two abysmal choices. If he chose to disappear, he would at least be absorbed by baby Chris, he wouldn't remember his life but at least some part of him would be remembered. However if chose the other time line then while he would remember his life, his family, the people he loved, none of them would know him. Chris frowned "What about my body, what about my powers? If I don't exist in that plane then neither does my body, and neither does my powers, I wouldn't have any in that plane would I?"

Death's emotionless chuckle echoed strangely in the ghostly plane, causing shivers to run up and down Chris's spine.

"I told them you were smart. Yes Chris, you are right, technically your body would have to be different, however your powers are tied to your soul, while you would not be a whitelighter, but you would retain your powers. And as an added bonus the next time you are reborn on that plane, your soul would gain extra powers as payment for your current life's good deeds."

"What about my body?" Chris couldn't help but be worried that he would be shoved into the body of an overweight, middle aged, business man, two minutes before that body had a heart attack. It was then that Chris realised that he had almost made his decision; truthfully he would rather be unknown with the opportunity to be known than to disappear and be remembered as a slightly neurotic visitor from a horrific future.

Death smiled at him, thin lips stretched unnaturally over white teeth. "Yes you're definitely smart. To answer your question Chris, what we would do is search around, find a soul about to die and simply replace that soul with your own."

"Isn't that ethically wrong, or at least ambiguous? I mean here's this family grieving over the loss of a loved family member when 'bam' we come in take the body, make it alive again, and this family wind up with a person they have never really known."

"You see that _is _one of the catches, the person who's body we acquire must have no family, no friends and ultimately must have been a terrible person with an evil soul."

"I'm going to be ugly aren't I?"

"Didn't you know Chris; the more evil a person is the more attractive they seem to be."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Come," Death stretched out his arm, palm open, "Let us go meet you destiny."

As Chris reached out to take Death's hand, a shining portal opened up before them.

"Do not be afraid; remember I'll be with you every step of the way." Said Death and then the two stepped through leaving the ghostly plane behind.

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_**TBC**_

That concludes Chapter One; please stay tuned for chapter Two, which should be coming out with in the week.

Love Always Sanie.

Please Read and Review!!


	3. Chapter 2: It's not so easy

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Sorry for the Ultra long wait. Really. I bow to the universe in contrition!

Anyway. Because of how long it has been, I have forgotten what path i wanted this story to take, however i was doing some reading from my Traditional Cosmologies lectures and got an idea.

so here we are...

Chapter 2

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Apparently, crossing over into a new reality isn't as fun as Sliders would have you believe. There was no swirling vortex of awesome, there was no pretty girl landing in his lap. No. There was, however a tug at his stomach, a feeling of electricity pouring in and through his (non-corporeal, but for some reason still able to feel pain) body and a sense of great horror as he was pulled toward a dark pinprick through a large expanse of white.

Chris thought he saw Death strolling beside him. That bastard!

And then there was only dark.

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Cain stood at the entrance to the large cavern. Demons were gathered together like some kind of Union Meeting. They were, for lack of a better term, mulling around, some arguing, some drinking unknown concoctions, but most seemed to be muttering quietly to each other. Cain knew exactly what they were talking about, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"So," he said to his companion, as they leaned in the doorway. "The annual stitch and bitch I see."

"Cain, you should take this more seriously. The king and Queen are dead now. There will be a fight for the throne."

Cain shook his head. No there wont, he'd see to that.

"Anzu, really, don't worry. Everything is fine." Cain smiled toothily at his companion, his grin was sharp and full of malice.

Anzu eyed the figure beside him, his 'friend.' It had taken a lot of work and effort to gain the 'Prince's' confidence and trust. To be in his ear and direct his movements, but the moron was too unpredictable. He didn't listen and everything he did was motivated by self interest, he needed to be removed. The Plan depended on the world not being able to fight back, on not having a champion. Cain alive was too much of a threat.

"Well then, Oh great Prince!" Anzu said theatrically.

"King, Anzu, King now."

Anzu's smile tightened. "Yes I suppose so, after all, you killed you parents exactly for that."

"Indeed." Cain smiled, his eyes shone, lit from within by his corrupt power.

Anzu's teeth clenched. Was killing him necessary? After all, the boy had practically been raised with his voice in his head. And there was no doubt that any goodness he might have had, had died the moment he had killed his parents. Surely he wouldn't run to the other side.

No. Anzu shook himself. No, Cain was too attached to earthly pleasures. He liked power and he got pleasure out of torture and pain. He was to attached to the world to forsake it. No, he must die.

"Well the King! I'll go fetch your dinner shall I." Anzu said casually, his facade perfect, never hinting that this would be the last dinner he'd ever fetch for the upstart King.

"Thank you Anzu. Indian if you can manage it." Cain replied, his spirit high.

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SHE is arisen, surrounded by seven, they are cloaked and shrouded in darkness. Here there is no light other than that SHE brings. Swirling vortexes piercing randomly. She has no real form, no shape that is discernible or definable. SHE simply IS. HER presence is wet and dry and fire and ice, SHE is violence and evil and calm. SHE is chaos, SHE is _Tiamtu._

They have called to her, for the time is upon them. Darkness has been pushed and cornered by the light. Now is the time for HER to fight back. The time they have awaited since she was cast down into the centre, surrounded, caught by her own skin.

~_YOU CALL ME FORTH_~

"We do." they say, their voices echoing as one. The place they are in, is not on the mortal plane, sound and thought is as one and their intent is pulled from them, they know it and have longed for this for an age.

"We call to you, Oh great one. It is time to bring you forth again, into the existence of the middle realm. The battle is nigh upon us, your part must be played."

SHE could not be ordered, but long SHE had awaited the time to finish the fight that had cast HER down.

~_I CAN NOT ENTER, SUCH AS I AM_.~

"We are prepared, Oh Mother of all." Their echo-y reply was strong and every set of eyes was set on the fluctuating form of SHE.

_~GOOD, WHEN THE POSITION IS RIGHT, I WILL TAKE FORM. BEL WILL SUFFER MY WRATH.~_

The collective nod as one and then the empty plane of existence is gone and SHE alone remains.

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Anzu brought the silver tray of food to Cain, who sat, unconcerned, on the large throne at the front of the great cavernous hall. The hall was empty now. Cain must have displayed his power and 'convinced' the muttering demons his worthiness to claim the throne.

Anzu pushed down his nerves, he figured that he been as a corporeal being for to long, He'd let human like emotions get the better of him.

"Cain." he said as he got nearer. "Your curry. It's the special from Mohinder's Curry Palace."

Anzu handed the tray to Cain.

Cain unhurriedly took the food and place the steaming plate on his lap. It had always amused Anzu that Cain, so horrid to the core, had such a weakness as curry, it seemed fitting that this weakness would be his downfall.

"Well, Cain." Anzu interrupted Cain's first bite, he didn't want to see this. He cursed his own weakness then. Cain looked at him. "I'll see you later, I've got to handle that matter with Ba'ak Ner. He's getting impatient with my method of handling the _training _of that creature he calls a son." Anzu waived his fingers at Cain, who waived back and Anzu left the hall.

Cain watched Anzu leave. He thought his mentor was getting twitchy lately. Cain knew he hadn't approved of the method he had used to dispatch his parents. Or his habit of showboating. He had gotten especially crabby when he had shown his mother's mutilated corpse to, what remains of the Power of Three.

His, supposed, aunts had wailed like banshees. He'd have thought they'd be a little bit grateful. After all they'd been trying to put an end to his Mother and Father's reign over the Underworld for years.

Still Anzu's agitated behavior was starting to annoy Cain, maybe it was time to 'dispose' his mentor. 'After all,' Cain thought, 'we all have to grow up and leave the nest sometime.'

Cain took a bite of the curry.

And thought no more.

The first thing Chris feels when he wakes up is an overwhelming burning sensation in his mouth. 'Curry,' he thinks, 'I hate Curry!'

TBC...

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End Note.

Hopefully I'll be able to continue with this idea. But even if i forget where I'm going, i have my mythology all planned.

For future reference. I'm taking creative licence on the Ancient Babylonian creation story and surrounding mythologies. Hopefully it will all come together in the end :D

Until next time

Sanie.


	4. Chapter 3: Again?

Hi, Back again.

I know each chapter is quite short, but the truth be told, the inspiration for this fic is slow coming. At the moment I'm trying to establish the plot for the rest of the fic while also writing the chapters.

I know my writing leaves a lot to be desired and I wish I could give you all a better quality fic. But this is the best I've got.

So without further ado...

Chapter 3: Again?

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_Ann is the sky, flighty and light, Ki is the Earth, grounded and calm. Bel, The Warrior. The destroyer of Chaos. God of the Ghostly plane. He is belonging to the shadows._

_Long, the story will be told, that THEY shall come again. Born from those that dwell in existence. Outside of Eternity. They shall face the Chaos. The battle will be great. But from Chaos, that realm is Born and so to, It shall die._

_But if He should fight. The Lord of Lords, crossed over from the Ghostly Plane. If Bel and Ki and Ann together battle. SHE will return to the Center. Time will move again_.

Anzu looked at his Tablet, Stolen from the Gods before man existed. He ran is finger across the indented words and nodded to himself.

He shall not fight, Bel will not fight. That poison was HER essence mixed with Death and the blood of a slain God.

No, Cain will not arise again.

Anzu placed the tablet in its protective casing, only small and yet the universe is printed over the surface in the language of the Gods.

What happens next will mean the End. Anzu smiles and takes his natural form. Time to leave this hellish existence.

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THEY stand around her. THEIR chant unintelligible to any language that ever was or ever is on Earth. THEIR cloaks are removed, and they stand with THEIR palms raised, power shared between them. THEY are the SEVEN; THEY are directed by the GODS. THEY have no remorse or compassion. Her screams mean nothing. She is necessary to HER. THEY will do HER bidding.

The Time is drawing nigh. SHE will need a body.

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Piper sat in the kitchen, her sister beside her. Their hands were clenched together, as though that connection was all that held them to the earth. They crowded in on each other, shoulders touching. Their expressions were shell-shocked and every shuddering breath they took seemed too heavy, too loud and the noise grated Piper's ears.

"It's alright. Everything is going to be alright." she heard a voice repeat again and again. She was shocked to find it was her voice, reassuring and calm, speaking to the oppressive silence.

Piper stood up and moved to away from her sister, she hastily wiped tears from her face.

"I should," she gestured to the phone on the wall by the patio door. "You know, call Paige."

Prue looked up at her, her eye's slightly glazed.

"Why?" She asked her voice seemed petulant. "She isn't our sister. Not really. Not in the way that..." Prue stopped, tears dripped from her face. "But I suppose the same could be said for Phoebe." she muttered. Her soul seemed broken and it hurt Piper to look at her.

Piper turned from her sister to face the phone on the wall. Her hands clenched at the bottom of her top convulsively. She knew Phoebe had changed in the last twenty or so years. Her young sister had been pulled into the darkness with that Demon Cole. Piper and Prue had pleaded with her, time and again to come home, with Cain and rejoin their family. But the 'Queen' had resisted. Piper didn't know if anything of the Phoebe she'd grown up with had remained at the end. She reached up to unhook the phone but collapsed onto the ground. Heaving sobs wracking her body. Her little sister was now **truly** dead.

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Chris woke up, fully, not long after falling, (crashing is closer to the truth, the impact of merging with whomever's body he'd taken had been like parachuting with no parachute.) into his new body. As he opened his eye's he felt rather than saw a shuffle of bodies somewhere near him. He picked himself up slowly, and his senses were then only aware of the pounding in his head and the acrid smell of sulfur in the air. The floor beneath his hands was either rock or stone, it was cold and jagged and something sharp was pressing into his hips. With considerable effort, he heaved himself off the floor and took stock of his surroundings. In his opinion, things didn't look that good. In fact, Chris thought, I think I'd prefer to be dead again.

Surrounding his new body were a lot of Demons, and by that Chris thought in slight wonder, he meant ALL of them!

It looked like a sea of gnarled, wrinkled and horned faces with skin color ranging from a sickly green to bloody red, oh wait, no, that WAS blood. Still there were plenty of bodies in that particular ocean that were _not_ covered in blood but were still a variance of the color red. Chris wondered why this was all he could think about when he was so grossly out numbered. No power of three to save him now.

He collected himself and took stock of his magical energy. What he found both astounded and shocked him. His witch powers were still there, a familiar presence that comforted him. But the place where is white-lighter power had come from was empty or rather was never there and instead and dark and monstrous power, black and horrific was in its place. It sickened Chris; it terrified him.

But maybe this power could help him escape from this hoard of demons. The power welled at his fingers, urging him to use it, its insidious nature guiding Chris in how to direct its path. The power built and then exploded outward. Then Chris's world went black. Again. He was kind of sick of it.

TBC

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Next: Hello Death!

Love

Saine.


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